Zamaswazi

 

ZAMASWAZI

 

ZAMASWAZI

‘It is as easy to deceive ourselves without noticing it as it is hard to deceive others without their noticing it.’ A Jesuit who worked in KwaZulu Natal at the time of heightened tension when Mandela was being released and the Inkatha party felt threatened by the seemingly unstoppable progress of the ANC, quoted these words of De La Fouchefoucauld in his reflections about what happened. People who lived peacefully together and who prayed in the same church, suddenly found themselves the prey of those who demanded they support their side.

Horrific events unfolded. I was particularly touched by the story of Zamaswazi Kunene. She was a little girl aged seven, asleep with her sister Lindiwe and cousin Delisile on a night in February 1988, when a petrol bomb was thrown into the store room next to where they were sleeping. The parents rushed to take them to safety and then tried to dowse the flames which involved going out of the house to fetch water. As they did so they were met by a hail of bullets. Two of the children and their mother died and Zamaswazi was shot in the neck immediately paralysing her. She was taken to Edendale Hospital where the medical staff did what they could and she was even allowed home for a wonderful Christmas that year. But it was a brief respite. When she returned to the hospital, she developed pneumonia and shortly afterwards died. A month later her father hanged himself.

This account of Zamaswazi was accompanied by a photo of the little girl in a hospital bed with the most infectious smile on her face. One is left pondering the mystery. The people who destroyed her family thought they were serving some cause and they deceived themselves into thinking they were doing something good. But no one could look at such killing and destruction without being aware how much the opposite was true. ‘War is always a defeat’, says Pope Francis repeatedly. But people still pursue war with passion and continue to deceive themselves.

On Sunday we shall read the account of the death of Jairos’s daughter, only a little older than Zamaswazi. Jesus raised her from the dead as a sign that all the Zamaswazis of the world are loved by God and destined to enjoy life with him. Time is running out for the perpetrators of evil.                                                   30 June 2024        Sunday 13 B     Wis 1:13…24   2 Cor 8:7…15 Mk 5:21-43

 

 

THE DREAM

 

THE DREAM

‘There is a dream dreaming us’, is a saying of the people of the Kalahari. I take it to mean there is something far greater than we can imagine accompanying us on our journey. ‘I will plant a noble cedar on the high mountain of Israel’, says Ezekiel, ‘and it will sprout branches and bear fruit.’ We are hardly conscious much of the time about what is happening within us and around us. Yet we are part of a drama, a cosmic one!

A priest, who had become the first locally born pastor of a rural mission, was telling us during the week of his experience when he was no longer able to afford the wages his foreign-born predecessor used to regularly pay the workers. They took him to court and gave him a gruelling day trying to answer questions before the magistrate. Having ‘tortured’ him till sunset they nicely came to him and begged for a lift back to the mission! His comment was, ‘nothing they had been saying all day entered into them.’

It was as though they lived their lives in compartments which could be lived separately. They felt no inclination to relate one area of their lives to another. One could push for what one wanted without any consideration of the implications on others. This fragmented morality has implications which always surface later. Our decisions always have an effect on others whether we pay attention or not. I may think it harmless to throw a plastic bag out of a bus window. But somewhere along the line my decision will have an effect.

So much for the negative aspects of our decisions. There are also the positive ones and there are ‘gentle’ parables that speak of the long-term good effects of what we do. ‘A farmer throws seed on the land. Night and day, while they sleep or are awake, the seed sprouts and grows; how, they do not know…’ We have all had experience of being told, ‘something you said, something you did, had a great effect on my life.’ We have no memory of saying or doing anything. But it made an impact, an impact that will last.

We are part of something far greater than the little world we think we inhabit. We may be insignificant but we are part of a dream, a dream of God, God wrestling with us as he did with Jacob, God ‘groaning’ with us (Paul in Romans 8) to build a better world.     

16 June 2024    Sunday 11 B                 Ez 17:22-24                 2 Cor 5:6-10                 Mk 4:26-34

 

OVERWHELMED BY THE TRIBE

 

OVERWHELMED BY THE TRIBE

Between 1885 and 1887, forty-five Christians, 23 Anglican and 22 Catholic, were burnt, beheaded or cut to pieces by Mwanga, the Kabaka of Buganda. Among them, the names of Charles Lwanga, Joseph Mukasa, Andrew Kaggwa, Mathias Mulumba and a boy of 14 called Kizito are among the best known.

There were political and religious reasons. The Germans and the British were competing to gain influence and control. Islam was expanding into the interior and even among the Christians there was competition between the churches. All these could be said about other parts of Africa. What made Uganda special?

The kabaka realised Christianity brought a new outlook to people. It threatened to undermine his absolute power. The cause of Mukasa’ execution was that he objected to the kabaka’s killing of Anglican Bishop Hannington without giving him a hearing. The kabaka was furious at being questioned and had him beheaded.

Charles Lwanga took over from Mukasa as leader of the group preparing for baptism and he tried to protect them from the kabaka’s sexual abuse of them. Knowing the danger they were all in, he requested they be baptised by missionary Fr Lourdel. The king determined to get rid of the Christians altogether and had most of them burnt to death at Namugongo on June 3^rd 1886.

The question arises; where did these young men – one only a boy – find the strength to make a stand? Why were they not ‘overwhelmed by the tribe’ (Nietzsche), that is, the pressure to conform to the traditions of their elders? Where did 14-year-old Kizito find the confidence to shout to his friends as he was led away, ‘Good-bye! We are on our way’?

We know the answer – even if it sounds well-worn. They were not alone. ‘I am with you always’. The early disciples experienced this, as we read in the Acts. And in the persecutions in North Africa in Roman times, Perpetua and Felicity showed the same courage. But that is too easy – to say we know the answer. Where do we find courage today? The news is full of people ‘overwhelmed by the tribe’, that is, keeping their head down and hoping the trouble will pass.

It doesn’t. It has to be faced. If not, it overwhelms us. Deep within us we know our courage lies struggling to assert itself. We are terrified by what it might mean if it does break free of the tight hold we keep on it. But if we allow ourselves to be free, who knows what might happen. We might begin to be fully alive.

Uganda Martyrs    9 June 2024    2 Mac 7:1…14   Rm 8 31-39    Mt 5:1-12

POWER, WISDOM AND LOVE

 

POWER, WISDOM AND LOVE

In a memorandum to Anglican priest David Russel in 1974 expressing his ideas about God, Steve Biko wrote,

I am sufficiently religious to believe that man’s internal insecurity can only be alleviated by an almost enigmatic and supernatural force to which we ascribe all power, all wisdom and love. This is ultimately what makes us tick.

I was astonished to find these were exactly the same words used by Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, in a lecture on ‘The Trinity in Julian of Norwich’ in the fourteenth century mystic’s writings. Biko would not have claimed to be a theologian but he hit the bull’s eye here, especially when he added, ‘This is what makes us tick.’ 

As children we were supposed to be satisfied by being told the Trinity is ‘a mystery’. And since mystery is, by definition, beyond understanding that was the end of it and the teacher went on to more manageable subjects. But to move on hurriedly is to deny ourselves a glimpse of something essentially nourishing, something that ‘makes us tick.’ What is revealed to us in the scriptures becomes increasingly challenging the longer we stay with it. The story of Christmas is attractive and bathed in excitement. The life in Nazareth is some thing we can easily understand and relate to. The ‘public’ life of Jesus was fraught with misunderstanding and opposition, but also with acceptance and joy. The passion was terrible but again we can grasp the story as we see it daily. So we progress from what is easily intelligible to what is more difficult. Then the going gets really tough. Resurrection? What does it mean? We have no experience. Can we relate to it? The Ascension too. It is beyond us. Then there is Pentecost and gift of the Spirit. More drama. Wind and fiery tongues. But does it touch us? Finally the Church throws everything at us: she has us celebrate the Trinity. Now we are really lost.

From Bethlehem to the Trinity sounds like a course with ever more demanding modules to master. And yet it is all an invitation to go ever deeper into the loving friendship God offers. God is power (the Father) Julian, Williams and Biko are saying. He is almighty. He is also wisdom shown in the Passion accepted by the Son. And it is all because of love (the Spirit) leading us to our ‘homecoming’ (Julian). These attributes are all one, interdependent on each other. This whole movement makes sense of our life. It is what makes us tick. For Julian, we are anchored in God (power) in our vulnerability (wisdom) as we follow our destiny which is love.

May 26, 2024.                      Trinity Sunday.                    Dt 4:32…40         Rm 8;14-17.         Mt 28:16-20   

 

THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT WILL

 

 

THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT WILL

I like the wind. I don’t know why. Perhaps as a child I enjoyed going to sleep to the sound of it rustling in the trees outside my window. It denotes movement, action. It’s a comforting companion. It is not the noise of cars or trains, games or work – all human made. The wind just comes, from we don’t know where.

I have just read the story of the bride choosing her wedding dress. ‘I want one that rustles’, she said. She tried everywhere. None were available. Finally she met a seamstress who told her she could make one but it would be heavy, uncomfortable and unsightly. ‘Never mind,’ the bride-to-be said. ‘That is what I want.’ ‘OK’, said the seamstress, ‘but may I ask you why you want such a gown?’ ‘My husband-to-be is blind’, said the girl, ‘and I want him at least to hear the rustle. That way, he will know I am beside him – and will always be.’

A pretty story? Maybe! But one that bears a touching truth. ‘Know that I am with you always.’ I am not alone. I may be blind. I may feel lonely, anxious, afraid. But I am not alone. Many people, I think, feel they are alone. They sense there is no one who understands them. If they feel lost or confused, they may reach out for ‘substitutes’ – distractions that ease the pain for a while. Maybe drink, maybe drugs.

There is no need to feel alone. Traditionally, in Africa for instance, there was always the community. A person was part of something bigger than themselves. There were people they could turn to – elders or peers. But Africa is now contaminated by the individualism of the ‘developed’ world whose message is; ‘you can do it yourself.’ Be independent, be free.

Yet freedom and friendship go together. It is no diminishment of the former to enjoy the latter. In fact, it is the constant rustle of people that can hone friendship and make us strong. We build each other’s freedom in so far as we engage with them in depth.

We are told the house rustled mightily at the time of Pentecost. A mighty wind shook it. This was the climax of the drama that began in a manger. The Word pitched his tent among us and progressively taught us the way to a complete life. He chose people and called them friends. He said he would be with them always. Not as he was for those years of tramping the roads of Galilee, but as a permanent walking with each one who would answer his invitation to companionship. He would give them his Spirit to be with them always.    

[Pentecost            19 May 2024              Acts 2:1-11                  Rom 8:8-17              John 20:19-23] 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

THE CARPENTER’S SON

 

THE CARPENTER’S SON

‘Is not this the carpenter’s son?’ (Mt 13:55). Jesus started life in a carpenter’s workshop – and he has never left it. He is continually ‘making things’ and, as with Jeremiah’s potter, they often ‘come out wrong … and he has to rework it’ (Jer 18:4). We quickly forget the terrible headlines telling us of things ‘coming out wrong’, but he never does. The Ukraine war may fade from our consciousness but not from his. Two years on, there are soldiers stuck in dug out defences trying to hold up the Russian advance. They are tired but they keep at it. Russia’s freedom and Ukraine independence in 1990 ‘came out wrong.’ Now they have to be reworked.

Zimbabwe became independent ten years earlier but now we know that something has ‘come out wrong and has to be reworked’. We are not pieces of wood nor are we potter’s clay, but we are being moulded, fashioned, hammered into shape. It is good to know that we are not alone. We don’t have to think of everything ourselves. There is One who is fashioning us, day by day.  We are called to trust that.

I was in South Africa recently and I was amazed to discover Ascension Day was, until recently, a national holiday. In the Christian view – and South African history was influenced by Calvinist Christian beliefs – the Ascension is a celebration of the final triumph of Christ. Christianity has often been used to buttress unjust structures and South Africa was an example of this. If the Ascension was seen as celebrating the authority and power of the Lord, it could be borrowed for state reasons. So perhaps it is a good thing it has been dropped from the list of national holidays. The remembrance of the Ascension needs to be ‘reworked’.    

The Ascension has to be linked, iron clad, to the final words of Jesus on the cross, ‘It is completed’ (John 19:30). What he set out to do at the Jordan; all his labours, disappointments, sufferings and death, are now done. They were the work that turned out right in the end. But what a cost! Our Easter joy is based on the cross and we should never let that slip. Our joy is founded on endurance and suffering and it comes out right in the end – for Jesus, for us and for all who follow his way. The Ascension is only a triumph if it is founded on ‘the way’. Any manipulation of that way empties it of the completion we all seek. The architects of apartheid are no more but many others have also tried to take short cuts to what they want. Nothing works unless based on ‘the way’, the way of the cross.

Ascension Day   12 May 2024     Acts 1:1-11   Ep 1:17-23     Mk 16:15-20